


Agent WAS Afloat

by maryhell



Category: NCIS
Genre: Eventual male slash, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-17
Updated: 2014-07-17
Packaged: 2018-02-09 06:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1972551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryhell/pseuds/maryhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being assigned as Agent Afloat, Tony disappears from the ship, leaving behind a suicide note. However, Gibb’s gut is churning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Agent WAS Afloat

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: Story contains theme of suicide, light guy/guy action, so must be over 18 to read – rated M to be safe.
> 
> NOTE: Even though one of Gibbs’ rules is – never assume; for the sake of the story length, I have. I have assumed that you know all character descriptions, and are aware of all the major story lines up to Agent Afloat. That being said, in this version of the story, I am somewhat biased, and a definite Tony fan.
> 
> Also, please note. I am a fan of 99% the NCIS characters. I am not a Ziva fan, mainly because of what they did to her character. However, for the purposes of this story, most of the main cast are in my bad books.
> 
> DC = Washington DC  
> MCRT = Major Crime Response Team  
> NCIS = Naval Criminal Investigation Service  
> FBI = Federal Bureau of Investigation  
> ME = Medical Examiner  
> LEO = Law Enforcement Officer

* * *

 

Tony felt lost, cast out in a metal coffin.

The hundreds of men around him might as well have been insects biting away at his fleshy remains. He couldn’t even sink into his beloved films. He needed the big screen experience. Watching something on an iPad wasn’t the same as going to the movies; not as... liberating. It didn’t take the viewer, body and soul, into an alternate universe. It didn’t free a person from their earthly confines. He was living a nightmare, where the only person on board that didn’t have a bad word to say about him was the captain. Sadly, one in 2,500 wasn’t enough to stem the feelings welling up inside Agent Afloat Anthony DiNozzo.

Being on board brought back childhood nightmares of being dressed in sailor suits and getting kissed by lipstick laden aunts and over enthusiastic new mommies. Those led to other memories he hoped he left behind upon joining NCIS. Nevertheless, their faded blueprint always lurked at the back of his mind.

Tony felt as though he was on the USS Claustrophobia, rather than the USS Seahawk. The more he walked the corridors and slept in the closet the captain lovingly called a cabin, the more he felt the walls closing in around him. At times, he could hardly breathe, feeling like the air was being sucked out of him vacuum style.

He needed to be free.

Many times, Tony begged and pleaded with Gibbs to get him home, but nothing happened. Several communications ago to MTAC, he saw everyone was back in DC – except him. All he got from Gibbs was, “Workin’ on it, DiNozzo.”

Words were all very well, but he couldn’t help wondering how Gibbs was workin’ on it? Tony tried his own links. Sadly, his reach was limited and nothing came to fruition.

Tony’s insecurities crawled to the fore.

Why was Gibbs ‘workin’ on it’?

Was Gibbs ‘workin’ on it?

The man had demonstrated he could move mountains - when he had a mind to. Probie McBitsNBites was easy. He only had to move from one desk to another. That was just a click of the fingers in Gibbs’s world. For Ziva, Gibbs worked his butt off bending political alliances to get her to DC. Those actions proved he had connections. Yet, Tony was still on a boat, with no visitors, no friends; just acquaintances and a few letters from those he couldn’t see on a screen. The correspondence helped in one way, tortured him in another. The words offered support, but they also served to confirm how far away he was.

The more Tony churned over the evidence; he came to the conclusion... Gibbs only seemed to care for the women in his life. Even when the man was blown up, his memory returned at the prodding of a woman. For the fairer sex, he would, could, and had, moved heaven and earth. There wasn’t a thing for the man who was his partner for double the tenure. Gibbs’s return from Mexico, due a damsel was in distress, was further evidence.

_And why should Gibbs work on it?_ Tony thought. Head slaps weren’t delivered to those who were efficient and kept focussed. After all his mess ups, Tony came to the conclusion; the team was better off without him. _They_ certainly seemed happy without him.  

In MTAC, there were no messages of, “We miss you,” or “Life’s not the same.” Yada yada yadda. There wasn’t even a facial twitch from Gibbs.

When Tony thought back, the teams’ apathy towards him had always been there. It came to a head during Gibbs’s flight to Mexico, and even more so, since his return. The moment Gibbs walked through the door, with the gofer on his lip, they forgot about Tony. Jimmy and Ducky were the only ones at HQ who took Tony seriously.  

Everyone else treated Tony like the eccentric misfit they had to be social with. Placate until the next uncomfortable encounter. They were the children behind the Godfather, loyal to him and only him. Tony was the outcast - the prince to the throne the ambitious siblings finally managed to oust.

It was a scenario Tony was used to. He was always on the outskirts, never part of an actual family. He was a tool to be used when required, then shoved in a chest to rust away.

Tony felt tired – worn.

The more he analyzed his relationships, the more he was convinced. The team he’d once considered his family no longer wanted him. He’d outlived his usefulness. Being on the ship gave Tony distance and time to reflect. He realized Ziva rarely treated him as anything that wasn’t stuck to her shoe. And when she did, the superior smirk on her face made Tony feel like she was throwing him a Scooby snack. It was as if the words, ‘I am Mossad’, trumped everything, and everyone should bow down in thanks. The same went for McGee with his MIT education. Every time he got the chance to demean Tony’s academic qualities, he did. As for Abby, the girl was brilliant. But, she was from the school of ‘All hail Saint Gibbs’. Anyone who dared do anything different to her hero was banished to the class below sidekicks.

Tony was from the school of BITBFFA – Been In The Business For Fucking Ages. He had his Harvard qualifications, too. Unfortunately, no one seemed to have looked them up.

 From where Tony stood, his expertise was only good enough to have him stationed on a floating casket, where the inmates saw him as the Grima Wormtongue of the Navy world.

On board, the cases he was called upon to investigate, in general, were not what he’d call difficult. There was a ready-made suspect pool. After that, it was a process of elimination. He loved the investigative part of the job, and the mission of the men aboard was an important one. It was his duty to solve the wrongs and help the Captain keep a bunch of lion-hearted individuals on the straight and narrow. Not that they appreciated it.

Their scathing attitude towards him dulled everything Tony loved about the job. In the beginning, he fought back. He took the attitude, ‘if they didn’t like him, he was doing something right’. Though, day after day, a constant barrage of verbal missiles was aimed at him. Eventually the words started to hit their mark, and his defences began to wane.

What Tony craved was some respite from feeling like he needed a can opener to breathe.  Every day, he could feel the claustrophobic effects of darkness closing in on him. It wasn’t something he’d consciously considered himself to suffer from. That being said, he supposed there were different forms of it. There was the physical stuck in a box type, classically demonstrated during his time in a shipping container. Was his need to move his job every two years another kind, or was that just itchy feet? One way or another, the debilitating effects of something was moving in on him.

Sadly, the job he loved so much, the one that freed him from his emotional agony and let him fly, had been taken from him. The agency didn’t want him. They’d thrown him into the nightmare. Bad dreams plagued his sleeping hours. Short words and condescension plagued his waking ones.

The man he’d secretly loved for years... didn’t want him. Well, no one could ever class insults and head slaps terms of endearment.

It was the final nail in a coffin whose lid had been closing for a long time.

During his last two connections with the mainland, Tony didn’t see the point in voicing his desire. Every previous request fell on deaf ears.  Tony delivered the information required, then cut the feed and returned to his hell hole. He’d lost the will to fight. Lost the faith he had in those he held dear. Lost his self-worth.

Tony couldn’t even pretend to be Leo or Kate and fly. The design of the carrier wasn’t right. Though inside, Tony had already hit his iceberg and was sinking.

At rock bottom, Tony felt there was only one course of action left to him. One way that would free him from his incarceration, free him from the hurt and disappointment. Free others from the shackles of having to deal with him. Tony entered the final words in his diary, left a note in his boots, and put the letters that tried to help in his pocket. He wouldn’t leave them for others to paw over. He wouldn’t subject their writers to interrogation. Tony left his quarters during the appropriately known graveyard shift.  Barefoot, he walked to the flight deck and through the line of aircraft. There were people about. An aircraft carrier never totally slept. Tony was thankful, they only afforded him queried looks, no words.

Seeing his goal, adrenaline took over. In the dead of night, Tony ran towards freedom. He sent a silent ‘Sorry’ to the stars, and swan dived off the side.

The sea quickly claimed Tony’s body. The rush of loud, watery bubbles invaded his senses. He battled to swim deeper, away from the churning propellers of the carrier. Eventually, he heard nothing but peaceful silence and the caress of cold freedom. His lungs burned, and he knew the end was near. Tony went limp in the water, and let it consume him.

Then, something hard hit him and all went black.

 

*****

 

 

Back in DC, Gibbs was worried. Over the months, he’d seen his SFA slowly withdraw into himself and accept the confines of his assignment. He’d voiced his concerns to Vance, with no results. All he got from The Tooth Pick was, “Maybe he’s finally growing up.”

At the comment, Gibbs went ballistic and stormed out of the office, leaving the hinges on Vance’s door more than a shade worse the ware for their encounter.

Descending the stairs, Gibbs couldn’t get out of his head the look in DiNozzo’s eyes the last time they spoke. It haunted him. The usual green sparkle was clouded and closed off. His body language screamed... it screamed all the words Gibbs didn’t want to hear from his SFA, his friend, the man he thought the world of.  Surrender, kicked, abandoned...broken.

He was about to say, “We miss you, Tony,” when the feed cut, and the chance was gone.

In the bullpen, everyone flinched upon hearing the slammed door. McGee and Ziva ducked behind their computers when Gibbs whirled down the stairs.

Every case they’d solved since returning to Gibb’s team proved what a buffer Tony had been between them and Gibbs’ moods. For that reason, they thought it was easier having Tony around, but given time, both were sure they’d learn to cope. Having said that, the duo suspected part of their leader’s bad mood revolved around his failing challenge to get Tony back to DC, rather than the man himself. Their egos negated the possibility Gibbs was also in a mood because it was the man himself Gibbs missed, along with the prolonged time it took to solve cases. They’d been too late a couple of times, unable to avoid further bloodshed. To Ziva, it was the nature of the beast. She didn’t see that Gibbs relied upon Tony’s ability to make connections well in advance of any other team member - his ability to make an experienced leap of gut-fuelled faith, follow it up, and get results. Saving lives was Gibbs’ priority, and Tony was a huge factor in that mission.

The following day, a call came into MTAC from the Seahawk. It was 0600 hours where they were, 1100 hours in DC.

Gibbs stood before the large screen with Director Vance. Captain Shaw was before them. Gibbs’s stomach was churning so much, he felt sick.

Director Vance started the conversation, nice and chipper. “How can we help you, Captain?”

Captain Shaw wasn’t so upbeat. “Director, we need your team on board. We have a missing person.”

“Can’t DiNozzo handle it?” the Director abruptly offered.

“Sir, Agent Afloat Tony DiNozzo _is_ the missing person.”

Before Director Vance could say anything, Gibbs was out of MTAC, shouting for his team to, “Gear up.”

*****

Aboard the Seahawk, after reviewing the initial evidence, the team were stunned. Gibbs, McGee, and Ziva, took photos of Tony’s cabin and flight deck, made drawings, bagged and tagged. When Gibbs opened the note, his heart sank. He knew DiNozzo’s writing. There was no long, drawn-out explanation or last message. Just one word – _sorry_.

The lack of verbal was a huge indicator as to Tony’s state of mind.

By the time Gibbs finished interviewing, he was in turmoil. It was as if two people existed within him.

The logical side of him said the incident was a suicide. There was no question about it. A sailor even saw him jump. The captain sent out a boat, helicopters, and circled the carrier, but in the dark... nothing was found. The evidence from his cabin would be reviewed in greater detail in DC. Yet, the last few entries in Tony’s diary suggested a degrading mental state, cohesive with suicide. Furthermore, a man in the sea who didn’t want to live, two miles away from shore in shark-infested waters, did not provide encouraging survival prospects. Gibbs didn’t know the odds, but he suspected they were miniscule.

The other side of Gibbs wanted to scream to the world, “Noooooooooooo!” That side of Gibbs couldn’t believe Tony was gone. He wanted to sit and cry like he hadn’t done since losing his girls. Feelings he hadn’t want to acknowledge, had been growing for his SFA for years. He’d suppressed the urges, getting by on daily contact. When Vance sent Tony to be Agent Afloat, Gibbs was furious.

During Tony’s absence, Gibbs came to terms with his feelings, and was determined to take a chance and show them to his SFA upon his return. He couldn’t confess in MTAC, to a room of sailors and officials, so he schooled his face when among others.

A solitary tear ran down his cheek at the realization; he wouldn’t get the chance to show Tony anything.

*****

Meanwhile, back in Quantico... the phone in autopsy rang.

“Hello. Yes, this is he. What? When? Yes, yes, of course, my dear. I’ll be on the first flight out. Goodbye.”

Ducky sat heavy on his desk seat and rubbed his hands over his face.

“Are you alright, Dr. Mallard?” a curious Jimmy Palmer enquired. “Have they found Tony?”

Having been put on alert, Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer were ready to move. Abby was panicking and keeping herself occupied in her lab.

“Sorry, Mr. Palmer.” Ducky paused for a moment in thought.  “Jimmy, how is Black Lung doing?”

Jimmy studied Ducky for a moment before answering. “He’s up for a challenge, Doctor.”

“Jethro hasn’t found Tony. But it seems we have been more fortunate. Anthony was caught in a fishing net off Hawaii this morning – barely alive. We have a mission to complete. Sadly, one I believe we must keep behind closed doors, at least for now. But we are going to need reinforcements.”

While Ducky was talking to Jimmy, he dialled another number. “Tobias. Salutations, my good man. I’m afraid I need some help and time is of the essence.”

Ducky spoke to Fornell for a couple of minutes before replacing the receiver. He knew he was withholding evidence in an official investigation. Conversely, his years of experience and his knowledge of Tony, told him he needed to know more before revealing anything to Gibbs and the MCRT. He also internally argued; technically, the moment they hit land it was FBI jurisdiction anyway.

Ducky made a further two calls to clear his exit, before gathering his coat, hat, and umbrella. “Mr. Palmer, do you think Black Lung can deal with our Miss Schuto?”

“Jimmy may not, but Black Lung can, sir,” he said with confidence.

“Good luck, my boy.”

“You too, Dr. Mallard.”

*****

Tony was originally identified via the dog tags he wore while on board. When the hospital searched his files, they called Ducky in his role of next of kin and medical proxy. Ducky enlisted Fornell’s help for two reasons.

One: While Gibbs was away, a little alliance had developed. It didn’t happen overnight. In a nutshell, Ducky became Tony’s father figure and confidant. From there, Tony struck up a friendship with the ever curious Jimmy Palmer, who wanted to develop his alter ego, Black Lung. Considering Tony was being treated more like the man who blew up Gibbs rather than his once second in command, then leader - his friendship with Mr. Palmer developed into one of brotherly love and mentor. While they were out one night, they ran into Tobias Fornell, who upon hearing every sordid detail, and a drunken night of debauchery with Mr. Palmer, Fornell became the forth and secret member of their small society.

Two: Tobias had a talent not even Gibbs knew about. He made out he was as inept as Gibbs when it came to technology. However, over the years, he had secretly developed his computer skills. He was dammed if he was going to be left behind by young hotshots. He wanted to keep abreast of the game. He wasn’t as accomplished as McGee, but what he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in wily old dog creativity. Fornell’s relationship with Mr. Palmer didn’t develop into anything serious. Nevertheless, what was forged was a strong friendship between them all.

*****

Ducky and Tobias arrived in Hawaii and headed to the hospital where Tony was being cared for. They were glad their en-route request for Tony to be treated under the name John Doe was complied with.

The men introduced themselves. Then, while Ducky went to see Tony, Tobias accessed system records and cleansed it of evidence relating to Tony.

Initially, it seemed like overkill, but Ducky wanted to give Tony time to get his head straight and decide on a path right for him, rather than succumb to the pressure of peers who had different agendas. Fornell didn’t take much convincing, considering he was aware of the FUBAR of events leading to the death of former director, and advocate of the ‘own agenda’ club, Jenny Shepard. Fornell hoped, after she died, events would settle. Instead, Vance did the one thing Tony feared above all else – he separated him from his family. The decision to make Tony Agent Afloat was akin to sending him to the moon.

The FBI agent shared Ducky’s concerns over Tony’s state of mind. Alas, he, like Dr. Mallard, was not included in the MTAC conferences, and Tony’s letters home were less than revealing.

Over the months, Ducky, Tony, and Jimmy wormed their way into Fornell’s affections. He was as protective over them as he was his own family.

Given the situation, Tobias was happy to let Ducky call the shots. He knew Tony better than anyone. If Gibbs wasn’t so bunkered in behind his own walls in a world no one could reach, he would have seen what needed to be seen. He would have done what need to be done, long before Vance came to power. Tobias wasn’t talking about personal relationships. Fornell was annoyed with the NCIS team dynamic. From where Tobias stood, he believed Tony had the rough end of all the deals. His easy going and willing to help nature was used by Jenny, abused by the team, and scolded by the people he was supposed to be able to trust. Through it all, Tony had donned a mask, taken the flack, and weathered the storms.

The alliance was Tony’s lifeboat until assigned as Agent Afloat. Even then, the trio tried to be there for Tony. Had everything prior been handled appropriately, Tony would have been able to handle whatever the ships threw at him. If Tony knew beyond a shadow of doubt his NCIS family supported him, he wouldn’t have spiralled into the depths of despair. For those reasons, Tobias was prepared to be the wedge between Tony and any NCIS investigation.

Tobias had seen helicopters out during their final approach to the airport. He also knew Gibbs wouldn’t be looking on land for Tony until he’d collected all the evidence from the USS Seahawk. He trusted Gibbs and the NCIS MCRT to be meticulous in their evidence gathering. That provided Tobias with a window of opportunity. As much as he wanted to see Tony, cleaning the trail was paramount.

*****

Thanks to the use of the FBI private jet, Dr. Mallard entered Tony’s room twelve hours after he was admitted. They weren’t far behind Gibbs on time. He looked peaceful as he could, considering he was attached to a ventilator and other various drips and monitors. “Oh, my dear boy. What state you must be in to do something so desperate?”

Ducky picked up the folder at the bottom of the bed. There wasn’t much to read. It was mostly a list of medications, including a broad spectrum antibiotic. It was administered to fight infection from the sea water and the scratches from a bite on the arm. The ventilator was there, as Tony had respiratory problems. Ducky, of course, knew Tony’s scarred lungs were the cause. Inhaled salt water would not have done them any good.

Dr. Mallard gasped when he read the entry, revived. It looked as though Tony had briefly regained consciousness, before going into shock and flat lining. After being brought back to life, he hadn’t woken since. Tony was also scheduled for a number of tests to determine the effects of oxygen deprivation to his vital organs.

The ME stood at the side of the bed and took Tony’s hand in his. “My dear Anthony. I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner, but I promise you this: When you decide to rejoin us, I won’t let them take you anywhere near that blasted ship again. I’ll protect you. You are under my care now.”

At that moment, two nurses entered with the intent of taking Tony for his tests.

Before letting Tony go, Ducky patted his hand. “I’ll be here when you get back, my boy.”

Exiting the room, Ducky sought out Fornell. He found the man at a desk with his laptop attached to the office pc. “Hello, Tobias. How are you doing?”

“Good, Dr. Mallard. I can’t wipe the police and hospital records completely. But, I have erased any mention of Tony’s name, yours, or mine. How is he?”

“As well as can be expected at this time, considering the trauma he’s been through - poor boy. He’s having tests to determine his long term prognosis at the moment. I can’t thank you enough for your intervention, Tobias.”

“Happy to help, Ducky – he’s family.”

“Yes, he is. It’s a shame it had to come to this before we could get our hands on him. I’d dearly love to shoot a few people right now. Needless to say, I shall stay until he recovers.”

“You think he will recover?”

“I have to believe so, Tobias. He’s survived the extenuating odds of reaching dry land from two miles out. Some part of him has to be able to go the extra distance. And I’ll be with him every step of the way.”

Fornell absorbed Ducky’s information. He was in FBI mode. “In that case, I’d like to stay longer, but time’s a tickin’. I’ll stick around long enough to see him, then I’ll get back to DC.  It won’t be much longer before Gibbs has all the evidence he needs, and I want to be there to take it all off him when he gets back. It is my jurisdiction, after all.”

Ducky and Fornell discussed cause, implications, and future possibilities until Tony returned. When he was safely in his room, Tobias looked upon the battered body of his friend and made a few promises of his own.

Absentminded, and without taking his eyes off Tony, the agent asked, “How did he survive, Duck? He should have been shark bait.”

“He was fortunate to be caught in the nets. Other than that, there’s a bite on his arm which may shed more light on the subject.”

Delicately, Ducky removed the bandage on Tony’s right arm. He carefully examined both sides of the bitten bicep. “Well, I’ll be damned!”

“What is it?”

“You see the shape, depth, and spread of the marks, Tobias?”

The agent looked closer.

“Those, my good man, are the teeth marks of a tursiops truncatus.”

“A what?”

 “A bottlenose dolphin, Agent Fornell. It would seem nature is in young Anthony’s corner, too.”

With a smile and a puffed laugh, Fornell said, “Wow. Only Tony could charm nature.”

“Yes, I have heard about the amazing feats of these animals, but it is the first time I’ve witnessed it firsthand. It reminds me of a story off the Orkneys, from when I was a lad...”

Ducky didn’t get to finish his tale. Fornell interrupted him. “Okay, Ducky, I’ll scoot. Gotta beat Jethro back.”

“Oh, yes yes. Safe journey,” Ducky mumbled as he waved Tobias goodbye.

“Look after our boy, Ducky.”

“Most definitely, Tobias,” the doctor affirmed, as he sat with a captive audience for his tales.

*****

Gibbs and the team arrived in Washington tired and sombre. They booked the evidence into the locker room and continued up to the office. When Gibbs rounded the partition, he stopped in his tracks. Agent Fornell was sat at his desk.

In his heart, Gibbs knew why Tobias was there. “You have got to be kidding me, Tobias?”

“Nope. On the ship, you had jurisdiction. Now, it’s mine. I want all the evidence relating to the DiNozzo case in my car before I leave.”

A defensive, accented harsh voice erupted. “The case is a straight forward suicide!”

Calmly, Agent Fornell answered, “I’d like to make that determination for myself, Miss David. And for the record – there is no such thing as a straight forward suicide.”

“He was seen jumping.”

“Ohhh... so you’ve read all through his notes, case files, his diary even, and determined that on a ship of 2,500, no one had a grudge. No one could have the leverage to make him jump. Do you know what mentally pushed him over the edge? Have you got a body?”

Fornell waited a few seconds for a reply that never came, then he remembered an instruction from Ducky. “Oh, and I’ll be taking everything out of his desk, not relating to a case.”

“Why?” McGee asked, amazed.

“Because I can. Everything in Tony’s life is now mine to take charge of until this investigation is over. And that includes his Mighty Mouse stapler. Any Navy papers I’ll expect a report on by Gibbs.”

“My office, Tobias,” Gibbs barked.

Before Gibbs had taken two steps, Agent Fornell spoke. “No. Not this time, Jethro.”

The men stood glaring at each other for an age, neither giving an inch.

Then a voice from above announced, “Give him the evidence, Gibbs.”

“What?” Gibbs shouted. He couldn’t believe Vance was handing it over.

“Just got a call from his director.”

Fornell gave Gibbs a smug smile.

Just then, Abbey clomped into the office, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs. Tell me it’s not true,” she blubbered as she threw her arms around her boss’s neck.

Fornell couldn’t believe his ears. “Now you decide Tony’s worth your sympathy? Amazing.” He walked towards the lift shaking his head. “I’ll be waiting in my car.”

He left the bullpen with a host of eyes on his back, and a few mouths open.

 

 

*****

 

 

In the days that followed Fornell’s confiscation of evidence, Ducky’s disappearance didn’t go unnoticed. Black Lung feigned innocence, playing the incompetent fool where necessary. In the interim, he kept Fornell and Dr. Mallard updated with his undercover observations.

Gibbs had given the order, “Keep looking.” He wanted to know if anyone washed up on the shore. Cleverly, Fornell covered their tracks well. He not only changed names, but dates too, so that any official reports of John Does found did not fit in with the time-line disappearance of Tony.

Ducky was called, too. He was most civil, advising Jethro the disappearance of Anthony somewhat took its toll, and he was staying with friends on the coast to recuperate. He neglected to reveal which coast or state. He suggested Gibbs give him a call if needed, in which case, he would come into the office immediately. Knowing his own turmoil, Gibbs had no reason to disbelieve the ME.

Mr. Palmer learned there was no change in Tony. He was relieved to discover the test results showed no long term degradation to any of his friend’s organs, and his brain activity was good. Sadly, Tony was still in a coma. To save further official involvement, Ducky informed the hospital he was moving Tony, alias John Doe, to a private facility. Tony was moved to a friend of Dr. Mallard’s. Fornell took care of the paper trail.

Since Tobias commandeered the evidence, Gibbs made himself a pain in Fornell’s side. So, the agent decided to leave a few tidbits that would make Gibbs think.

It began with the switch of Tony’s primary medical proxy and next of kin from Gibbs to Dr. Mallard. What was even more surprising to Gibbs, was Fornell as the backup, if Ducky couldn’t be contacted.

Fornell’s response to Gibbs’ surprise turned into a mini scalding. “What did you expect him to do? You disappeared to Mexico. Who was supposed to speak for him if he got shot? You made yourself unreachable... to him at least. Who did have your number, Jethro? How was the person who trusted you to speak for him in the event of an emergency supposed to contact you? Carrier pigeon?”

Occasionally, Fornell went to get coffee while Gibbs was in his office. A few things appeared in Tony’s file under the tab, ‘Possible Causes for Suicide’. Among the papers were extracts from Tony’s diary, and supporting accounts detailing how Tony had a constant fight on his hands. It didn’t matter whether Tony was serious or a goof, he got chastised. Starting during Gibbs’ time in Mexico, there was also a behavior analysis on every member of the MCRT. Behind those papers was a spreadsheet containing a score card of sorts. Down one side was the names of the MCRT and along the top were headings like:

Head slaps.

Ones taken for the team.

Requests for a bailout.

Looking at the numbers in the columns, it didn’t take much of a study to see a pattern.

To onlookers, it seemed as though the alliance was aiming its frontal attack purely at Gibbs. In some ways, it was. Though, it wasn’t meant as an all out assault. It was designed to get Gibbs to open his eyes to what was going on around him. It was engineered to make Gibbs see how McGee and Ziva couldn’t think without a directive, how single-minded they were- even Abby. How adverse to change they had become. Yet, they all created change of the worst kind. They had split into cliques.

Accompanying the spreadsheet were two graphs. Neither was a regular pie chart. One was a doughnut style chart - a series of circles, one inside the other. At the centre was Gibbs. The next circle out was Ziva and Abby, labelled ‘The Inner Sanctum’, followed by Jenny Shepard, McGee, and Ducky. In the outer circle was Palmer, Tony, and Vance. The chart was titled – Moving Mountains.

The other was a radar chart, titled ‘Interactive Trust’, where some of the sections overlapped. All areas interacted with Abby and Gibbs. However, there were individual sections occupied with different names. Vance, was on his own. Then there was Ducky and Palmer. Also on her own was Ziva. However, her section intertwined with Gibbs, Abby, and to a lesser degree, McGee. Tony was not on the chart.

The analysis surprised Gibbs. In his mind, Tony was his most trusted friend. However, the details before him didn’t support that.

When Tobias re-entered the office, the file was still in Gibbs’s hands, but he was staring at nothing.

Fornell retrieved the folder and sat back at his desk. For once, Jethro had let his guard down, and Tobias could see the cogs turning, realization hitting. Tobias could see how much Tony meant to his long time adversary and friend.

He cut into Gibbs’s deliberations with, “Jethro, without a body, I can’t close the case.”

Gibbs nodded and left the office, his gut feeling like it was on the high seas in a storm.

When he returned to NCIS, he stayed quiet and watched the interaction between his team. His team... he thought more about that term and everything it implied. His team. He watched as Ziva cleaned her knives, then continued on her computer as though the day was just another ordinary day. Tim, too, was typing away. He at least gave sad looks towards Tony’s desk.

As for Abby, she had pictures of Tony all over the lab, and garnered hugs off everyone that entered, accompanied by the words, “I’m so sad.” Seeing Tony’s picture everywhere was hard for Gibbs to handle. He wondered if it was like that for Tony while he was gone.

That night, Gibbs went home to his lonely, cold house and cried.

When morning came, he started making associations:

Abby’s constant crying and helplessness.  

Ziva’s indifference.

McGee’s loss at not being able to connect anything without an electronic trail.

They were concerned with their own worlds, though some showed promise.

Fornell waiting, ready to take the evidence.

Ducky’s absence.

Fornell’s figures.

Palmer’s avoidance.

Ducky’s absence... Ducky’s absence.

Nothing supported the theory, but what if.....?

Gibbs made a leap of faith Tony would have been proud of. He drove to HQ like a bat out of hell with added turbo engines. He ran to autopsy, sliding through the doors as the sensors opened them. He breathlessly supported himself in the doorway in time to see Palmer and Fornell stop their conversation and look over at him.

Gibbs’ appearance was dishevelled.

“Where’s Ducky? Where’s Tony?” Gibbs hadn’t wanted to raise any alarms by having McGee trace Ducky’s phone.

It was 6am, and no one was supposed to be in. Jimmy and Tobias gazed at each other, having a wordless conversation.

Frustrated, Gibbs shouted, “Where’s my Tony?”

At that statement, Gibbs was dragged into autopsy.

Fornell wasn’t prepared to give up Tony whereabouts yet. “You investigated the scene, Jethro. You concluded Tony Jumped. You concluded he died and was lost at sea.”

For a moment, his friend’s comments made Gibbs wonder exactly what happened. Had his SFA been resourceful enough to plan an escape? Unfortunately, he let his mouth run without checking it first. “It’s a criminal offence to go AWOL, Tobias.”

Tobias bit back. “Don’t go there, Jethro! Your boy jumped, alright. He wanted to _die_ , and I can make him disappear for good if necessary. I’m better connected than you think, Jethro. Unlike you, I can play nice with other people.”

Gibbs started to shake, and Jimmy guided him to one of Ducky’s comfortable seats.

“He’s alive then?” Gibbs asked with hope.

“Ducky is with him.”

Gibbs’ s face was full of questions, though he wasn’t capable of forming words. Fornell decided it was time to give a little.

“Short story. Tony was caught in the morning fishing nets. At the hospital, he regained consciousness briefly, threw up, then went into shock and cardiac arrest.”

“He died?” Gibbs choked.

“Yes. The ER staff got his heart going again, but he’s been in a coma since.”

“How come he hasn’t turned up on any searches?”

“FBI influence.”

“I need to see him.”

Tobias and Jimmy looked at each other again. It was after midnight in Hawaii, but they ran the risk of Tony being discovered if they waited to remove Gibbs from the premises.

Despite the hour, they knew Ducky wouldn’t appreciate an unannounced visitor. Black Lung made the call.

When he finished, Jimmy turned to Tobias and gave a small nod.

Fornell smiled at Gibbs, announcing, “Grab your gear, but leave your phone. I’m not having you tracked. Jimmy will let us know if all hell breaks loose.”

“Why the secrecy?”

“Unlike NCIS, we are putting Tony’s needs first.”

*****

During the flight, Gibbs sat quietly, wrapped in his own thoughts and memories about the man that had come to mean so much to him. He hadn’t realized how much; his actions in protecting himself had been interpreted by others as an accepted form of treatment. They were not the rats that followed the Pied Piper. They were the unknowing children, following a hypnotic tune not meant for them.

He chastised himself over developing a team that, though brilliant, took on the worst of his traits. Tony was the only one who refused to be seduced by the music. Tony had his own masks and played his own tune.

Before he knew it, and they were landing in Hawaii. En route to the estate where Tony was being attended to, Gibbs’s knee bounced in nervous anticipation.

Fornell and Gibbs were met at the door by Ducky. Although shorter in stature, he stood with authority, hands clasped behind his back.

“Ducky.” Fornell nodded.

“Tobias,” Ducky greeted with a smile, “Jethro,” was spoken much more formally. Without saying anything more, the ME turned and led the men into the house.

Gibbs sighed and followed.

During the small talk on the way to the room, it was revealed the house belonged to a long term friend of Ducky’s. Mr. Solo converted a wing of the house into a medical facility when his mother became terminally ill.

“Wait here,” Ducky suddenly announced.

Fornell and Gibbs stood, looking through the large glass windows. Tobias was relieved the ventilator had been removed. At least physically, Tony was getting better.

 Gibbs didn’t know what to think as he gazed upon the man he didn’t believe he’d see again; the man who, by some miracle, survived. Jethro watched the unmoving Tony as Ducky approached. Nothing could be heard through the glass, but Gibbs could see Ducky talking while checking the monitors. He then picked up Tony’s hand and had a more private conversation with him.

Jethro, without turning to Tobias, said, “How long were you going to keep him from me?”

“As long as needed... forever, if necessary.”

Before Gibbs could respond, Ducky exited the room and addressed him. “Jethro, that boy in there has been through hell. I won’t have him put through more. The only reason you are here is because I think he needs you. Leave the agent inside of you out here. Go in and be the man _he_ needs. If you can’t do that, then go home now.” Ducky’s tone booked no reproach.

Gibbs nodded and walked in. Approaching Tony, Jethro wondered what he should do first. He went on instinct, and stood by the bed and ran his fingers up Tony’s unresponsive arm. Then, he leaned over and kissed Tony’s head.

Outside, Dr. Mallard said with a smile, “Well, that’s promising.”

Fornell stood, mouth agape.

Unfortunately, there was no reaction from Tony.

*****

Not knowing how long Gibbs would be around, Fornell arranged for his director to tell, not ask, Vance that Gibbs was helping them in an operation. There would be hell to pay for Gibbs when he returned, but that could be dealt with later.

Gibbs stayed with Tony the whole time, only leaving to eat and freshen up. Every time he departed or returned, he kissed Tony on the head.

During that time, Ducky had instructed Gibbs to let Tony hear his voice. Gibbs started slowly; it was difficult for the man who had been described as a functional mute. That being said, once Jethro got going, he couldn’t stop. Gibbs wasn’t a talking man, but Tony deserved to know it all. There was a time for talk and a time for silence. If Tony’s suicide attempt wasn’t a kick in the ass to talk, then nothing was.

By the third day, Gibbs was still pouring his heart out. Yet, he only talked when he was alone in the room with Tony. He started with his childhood, through his marine career and his life with Shannon and Kelly. He talked about thoughts and feelings, eventually moving on to NCIS and his view on happenings there.

From a distance, Fornell and Ducky kept an eye on them.

With Tony’s limp hand in his, Jethro examined the soft palm compared to his slightly rough, arid knuckles. He pumped cream into his hand and moisturized Tony’s drying skin. When he laced their fingers together, it felt right. Later, when Gibbs moved to leave for his evening freshen-up, Tony’s fingers clamped together.

After a few seconds, they returned to being limp. When Gibbs tried to move away for a second time, Tony’s fingers clamped shut again.

Gibbs hit the button, and Ducky came running.

“He won’t let me go, Duck.”

“Then don’t go anywhere, Jethro,” Ducky answered as he checked Tony’s eyes for a response. There was nothing. He looked over the machine readings. “Sorry, Jethro, he’s still in a coma. There was a slight, hopeful peak, but sadly, nothing else. I would surmise his subconscious knows you are here. Therefore, I suggest you keep doing whatever you are doing. On some level, you are getting through to him.”

Ducky then left Gibbs to his thoughts. Within a couple of minutes, Gibbs’s brain was making leaps and bounds in what he hoped was the right direction. If Tony knew it was him holding his hand and he didn’t want to let go, then perhaps Tony felt the same as him.

Without releasing Tony’s hand, Gibbs scanned the area to ensure no one was around. He leaned over Tony and cupped his jaw. “If I’m wrong about this, Tony, please forgive me.”

The moment his words finished, he pressed his lips to Tony’s. They were soft and pliable; better than he imagined. With another soft peck, Gibbs moved away, disappointed his kiss hadn’t ended the way fairytales foretold.

He tried again, for luck. Sadly, Tony’s response was the same.

Gibbs sat dejected in his recliner at Tony’s side and closed his eyes, wondering what to do next. His thoughts drifted to a dreamland where Tony did more than respond.

When Gibbs woke, Tony’s fingers were not limp. They were strongly wrapped around his. With his heart beating out of his chest, he looked up to see tired green, watery eyes looking into his.

The reality of seeing Gibbs’s waking eyes made Tony try to let go. Gibbs held on. “Glad you came back,” he whispered.

Tony’s tears overflowed and a sob followed. Between his stuttered cries, Tony mouthed. “Why?” Over and over again. At times like this, Tony looked so innocent.

His hand gripped Gibbs’s so hard, it began to hurt. Monitor alarms sounded. Within seconds, Ducky ran in to the gasps of Tony unable to breathe. An injection and some soothing words later Tony was, again, unconscious.

The next time he woke, Ducky was stood near. Tony didn’t speak. He gazed around the room, taking in each person, each piece of equipment. As he processed the information, he closed his eyes and more silent tears escaped his lids. Every time Gibbs tried to take his hand, Tony flinched and moved it away.

Nevertheless, Gibbs refused to leave.

The next time Tony woke, he drank and ate a little. For elucidation, Ducky explained he understood how disoriented and confused Tony must feel. He assured him everything around was real and not a dream, as Ducky suspected Tony initially thought.

Ducky didn’t want to unnecessarily push Tony, but there were certain things he needed to know, in order to ascertain the man’s brain function and state of mind. “Are you up for a little conversation?”

Tony looked towards Gibbs and back to Ducky, before closing his eyes.

The Doctor easily read the signs. “Would you mind leaving us for a short while, Jethro. This sort of thing can be a little overwhelming.”

Reluctantly, Jethro left the room and went for coffee.

During his absence, Ducky ascertained Tony was fully cognizant of who he was and his situation. Worryingly, he also discovered, Tony was not happy at the lack of success in his suicide attempt. The young man saw it as further evidence of his inept ability at being able to do anything right.

It took a lot of time and all the good doctor’s experience to get through to Tony, but after several bouts of short sleep and nudging in the right direction, Ducky managed to plant a seed of hope. His crowning glory for the day was the promise he got from Anthony not to attempt suicide again. And the assurance he would talk to Ducky first if such thought entered his head.

Two days later, and Gibbs still wasn’t allowed to see Tony. He wasn’t happy about it; especially considering Tobias was in his place. Ducky reiterated his warning of sending him home if he did anything to upset Tony.

Three days after Tony woke; Fornell thrust his mobile into Jethro’s hands. “Jimmy’s got an update for you,” he said as he walked away.

“Director Vance is ready to storm FBI HQ and demand your return. He’s had Abby using all her resources to track your whereabouts.”

Gibbs was already not happy with Vance. Couple it with his frustration at not being able to see Tony, and he let fly. “I don’t care what that bastard wants! He kept me away from Tony and shut down every attempt I made at getting him back. It’s about time he discovered what it’s like to be kept out in the cold.”

“Okay, I’ll keep monitoring that situation, and let you know if they get close.  Ziva and Tim have also been complaining. They’ve been on cold cases since you left and are not happy campers. They want you back.”

“Dammit, do they need a dot-to-dot handbook? Have they solved any?”

“Not that I’m aware of, Gibbs.”

“In that case, let them stew. If Ziva and Tim haven’t got the brainpower to keep themselves occupied, or they need a nursemaid, they don’t belong on my team. Can you get me list of vacancies ready? I’d like some options.”

“Sure, no problem. And lastly, Abby”

“’What about Abby?”

“Your picture has joined Tony’s on her wall. She has the footage of you leaving with Tobias, and she’s tracked his phone, too. It’s a good thing he left his official one at the office and is using his backup. She can’t understand how, as she is your favorite, how you can leave her in the dark. She says she needs her Gibbs.”

At one time, Gibbs would have gone running to Abby’s side. However, recent events made Gibbs realize that Abby’s actions, intended or not, hurt Tony deep down. That was not easily forgiven. He understood his pampering made the Forensic Scientist into a needy, spoiled child, rather than an independent woman. Her willingly helping Vance didn’t help matters either. Tony was his priority.

Everyone in DC was demanding Gibbs’s attention, demanding part of him for their own gains. Yet, Tony...Tony hoped for his help, and in his eyes, it never came. He didn’t push it, he didn’t demand it. Because the others shouted louder, clambered in front of him harder, he never received what he deserved. Tony had only ever been there in support of Gibbs, and what had he gotten in return? Nada. Even if it took a lifetime of convincing, Gibbs was determined Tony wouldn’t be pushed away again.

With a sigh, Gibbs gave his reply to Mr. Palmer. “I’m not _her_ Gibbs. I’m sure Abs needs a hug, but Tony comes first. And she is not my favorite. Take her the odd Caf Pow, but other than that, use your judgment. I’m at a loss at what to do with her. ”

“Okay, will do. Can you pass me back to Tobias, please?”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow at the familiar term Jimmy used for his friend. He was going to say something, but when he turned, Tobias was already standing there - supporting Tony.

They looked at each other for a while. Eventually, Tony broke the silence. “Did The Toothpick really stop you at every turn?”

“Yep. Every damn step.”

“Why am I your priority?” His voice was still a little raspy from lack of use and abuse from the sea.

At that question, Tobias piped up. “I think you two _need_ to talk. Come on, Jethro, slot in here while I talk to Jimmy.”

For the first time since waking, Tony didn’t flinch when Gibbs touched him.

“Be careful with him, Jethro. He’s got a few torn muscles down one side. They will heal, but it’ll take time.”

 

 

*****

 

 

Gibbs slowly guided Tony into the conservatory where they would be warm, but have a good view of the surrounding vista. Mr. Solo’s estate was mid-way up a hill, surrounded by trees. But, there were gaps which displayed the seascape beyond.

The question that opened the flood gates was Tony’s. “Why are you here, Jethro?”

After that, it was if the men’s usual vocal chords had been switched. The normally non-stop talker only offered the odd question, while the taciturn functional mute hardly took breath.

Gibbs didn’t stop, until he looked at Tony to find him asleep with his head on the back of the couch.

The pattern continued for a few days. When they first started talking, the men sat in different chairs. At the calming of their discussion, they sat on the same couch.

When Ducky found them, both were lightly snoring. Tony’s head was resting on Gibbs’s shoulder, and Gibbs arm was around him. Ducky covered them with a blanket and left them alone.

*****

Despite the bliss of staying within the bubble of Mr. Solo’s estate, the outside world was, figuratively speaking, battering down the doors.

Mr. Solo arrived back from his European trip and was catching up with Ducky.

Tony and Gibbs were, slowly but surely, building a much closer relationship.

Fornell, on the other hand, was receiving daily updates of the noises being made in Washington.

Everyone was scared to venture near Vance’s office for fear of being shot. Inside his office, the man was reflecting on anything and everything.  His temper at Gibbs’s disappearance was replaced with a wish just to have the man back at his desk. The MCRT was useless without its leader. Neither Tim nor Ziva knew how to lead. Tim couldn’t make a decision without running it through a probability program first, and Ziva’s regime was point a gun at it and hope they spoke before she took the shot.

As for the MCRT as a whole, they were essentially running around like headless chickens, bumping into a lot of things, but not accomplishing much.

It was time for major decisions to be made, and for Tobias to return to DC.

Several options were placed on the table for Tony. The group discussed each one in depth before Tony made his decision. When one particular option was tabled, Gibbs knew by the look in Tony’s eyes it was ‘the one’ even before deeper dialogue.

When Tony pointed to option C, the ear-to- ear smile on Tony’s face warmed Gibbs’s heart. Under the table, he and Tony gripped each other’s hands in support.

Departing, everyone thanked Mr. Solo for his hospitality. He in return wished the four a speedy, safe journey.

*****

The team hit the tarmac running. There was much to do before office appearances in the morning.

That evening, the alliance got together and welcomed their new member over pizza. Later, Ducky returned to his house. Fornell and Jimmy left together, their combined destination unsure. Gibbs and Tony retired to the one bed via a very, very long double shower.

Early the next morning, Ducky and Gibbs arrived in the parking lot at the same time. They wished each other good luck and entered the building. Before they parted, Ducky turned to Gibbs with a fire in his eyes Gibbs hadn’t seen for an age. “Rather exciting, isn’t it, Jethro?”

“Oh, yeah,” Gibbs replied with a crooked smile and an air of naughtiness.

Gibbs didn’t see the point in waiting to be summoned to Vance’s office. He barged straight in with a curt nod to Cynthia, who was immediately on the phone to everywhere but her boss.

Once the shock of Gibbs’s return wore off, he tore into the man with vengeance. Gibbs sat, listening, not saying a word, while Vance ranted about protocol, Abby’s displays, mayhem without his MCRT, and how McGee and Ziva should have been better trained to take over in the absence of Gibbs.

“Ya done?” Gibbs amusedly asked when Vance finally ran out of steam.

“Sure, why not,” was Vance’s tired response.

“It’s the job of the SFA to run a team when their boss isn’t about. YOU shipped mine out. The one **_I_** trained for years. The one I trusted to take over whenever I was absent. Tim never has been, nor ever will be, SFA material. He’s been part of the MCRT for five years and is STILL gullible. Ziva has been on the team almost as long as Tim. She is strong and efficient in a fight and has her place, but sure as hell isn’t in the roll of SFA, despite what she may think. They are specialists, not leaders.”

“You may be right on that,” Vance acquiesced. “At least you’re back to steer them again.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Leon.” Gibbs leaned forward and dropped an envelope on the desk. “These are my transfer papers, already approved by SecNav.”

“What?” Vance looked at the orders, wide-eyed.

“It was either transfer or resignation. When Paul Ahani retires at the end of the month, I’ll be taking over his role in command of the Hawaiian office. So, what are we going to do about McGee and Ziva?”

The men talked for a while longer behind closed doors. Meanwhile, in the bullpen, tension was rising along with rumors.

A whirlwind of white entered the floor shouting, “Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs!” Then seeing no one at the desk, exclaimed, “Where is he?”

Everyone pointed to the upper mezzanine.

They didn’t see Ducky and Palmer hiding in Balboa’s cell. They just gave the agent a wink and a “Shhhhhh.” That got the man on board for whatever mass destruction was about to happen.

The next person to exit the upper level elevator did nothing to ease the anxiety – Fornell. By then, Ziva, McGee, Abby, and a whole bunch of others, were like meercats watching an advancing predator.

A loud, “HOW THE HELL!” from Vance’s office, was followed by silence.

The ding of a text alerted Ducky. “Oh, that would be my cue. Make sure you catch this on camera, Mr. Palmer,” the doctor secretively murmured to his sidekick.

As Dr. Mallard made his way up the staircase under watchful eyes, Gibbs exited Vance’s office to join him. A moment or two later, there was the telltale ding of the elevator.

A collective gasp echoed when Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo appeared. The two men went to help him, one under each arm, with Gibbs taking the crutches. None of the three looked down to the bullpen.

When they disappeared out of sight, stunned silence erupted into what sounded like a chattering cacophony of clucking chickens.

Balboa turned to a busily filming Palmer. “Nicely played.”

A few minutes later, the discord in the henhouse turned to silence when Gibbs emerged.

As he walked down the stairs, he looked at the gawping guppies. “WHAT?”

Everyone immediately sat at their desks and started making calls. Gibbs passed Abby before she even had chance to fling herself into his arms. She stood there, half in hug stance – empty.

When Gibbs sat at his desk, he was immediately approached by three.

“So, Tony is alive, then,” the accented female stated.

“What gave you the first clue, Ziver?”

“But Gibbs, Gibbs, Tony should have called. He knew I’d worry. You should have called, too. As soon as you knew he was alive, you should have called,” Abby admonished.

Shuffling his papers, and with the same monotone voice he used on Ziva, Gibbs answered the scientist. “Not everything’s about you, Abs. Sometimes, other people’s feelings come before yours.”

Abby stood there, agape.

“You got any complaints, McGee?”

“I... I... err...no.”

“Good.”

 There was much more Gibbs wanted to say to the people before him. Among other things, he wanted to break his own rule and apologize for leading them astray, admonish them for acting superior, and shoot them for hurting Tony. He wanted to shoot himself for that, too.

Thankfully, Tony allowed Gibbs a second chance. He was not so forgiving with his former colleagues.

Gibbs had already confessed his sins to Tony, and he suspected there would be a time in the future when he would confess them to the three - maybe. Though, as Ducky pointed out, not all the blame lay at Gibbs’s door. People had to take ownership of their actions. No one should blindly follow another. It was one of the qualities that made Tony a leader among sheep.

At that moment, Ducky, Fornell, and Tony emerged from Vance’s office with the man himself. Aided by the ME and the FBI, Tony descended the stairs.

Again, the noise level in the bullpen lowered as some strained their ears towards the MCRT.

At the bottom, Jimmy greeted the group and took Ducky’s position.

The men hugged, and a few words were exchanged. Nothing was heard by anyone. On the other hand, Jimmy looked at Tobias with a blush.

Meanwhile, Gibbs rose from his desk and again ignored Abby’s need for attention. With the stomp of a foot, she turned to McGee instead, who willingly complied.

On approaching Tony, Gibbs asked, “You okay?”

Tony looked relieved, and smiled. “Yep, all sorted and ready to roll.”

“As am I, Jethro. It’s been short, but quite a day. Mr. Palmer, would you mind meeting us down stairs? I fear I have left my brolly in autopsy. ”

“Of course, Doctor.”

With a round of handshakes, Vance redeemed himself slightly by apologizing for everything that happened before the whole bullpen.

Confused, the MCRT watched Ducky, Palmer, Gibbs, and Tony, head into the elevator. As the doors closed, Balboa, from his lone corner, spied behind the small wall of medical personnel, Gibbs lean and kiss Tony in a way he would never kiss his mother.

He smiled, and muttered to himself, “Well, I’ll be damned. Good luck, boys.”

As Director Vance ascended the stairs, he bellowed, “Balboa, my office!”

“Yes, sir,” came the equally loud reply. He bounded across the bullpen, unaware he was about to be named Gibbs’s successor – in about a month’s time.

Fornell sat at Gibbs’s desk with a cat got the cream grin, and put his feet up.

Abby stood with her arms folded and announced, “That’s Gibbs’s desk.”

Fornell put his hands in the air and crowed, “And so say the Schuto School of Saint Gibbs.”

“Excuse me?” The hands moved to the hips.

With a smile, Tobias put his elbows on the desk and rested his head on his hands. “Hate to break it to ya, but this is my desk for the next month. After that, there will be someone else sitting here, and it won’t be Jethro.”

Abby’s face dropped into kicked puppy mode. “What, he’s gone?”

“Yup, with Tony and Ducky.” Tobias was enjoying himself.

McGee found his voice. “What, none of them are coming back?”

“Nope. Tony has resigned, Ducky has retired, and Gibbs has transferred to Hawaii, where, if my information is correct, Ducky and Tony will be moving to.”

“Why Hawaii?”

“I believe there’s an UNCLE out there who is going to help Tony set up his own business.”

While Abby, Ziva, and McGee were dumbstruck, the gossips were already in full flow.

The three stooges were unaware that Tobias, with the blessing of Vance, was going to return some of the respect they gave Tony. Vance had quickly learned some valuable lessons, and as far as he was concerned, McGee, Ziva, and Abby were partly to blame in him losing one of the best teams the agency had ever known. He knew it was somewhat hypocritical of him to think that after his own actions, but if his eyes could be opened, then so could theirs. If any of them learned lessons, then there was hope, and they would remain part of the MCRT. If not, there would be movement in the ranks.

*****

Gibbs, Tony, and Ducky sold up and moved to Mr. Solo’s estate. While there, Tony could be called upon to help out a number of agencies. Number one priority was given to the FBI, and Mr. Solo’s ventures, as they were the ones who facilitated everything.

Between jobs, Tony was free to pursue a career as a PI. To that end, there was a gift waiting for him when he arrived.

A bright red, shining Ferrari.

 

The end

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed my little story. If you would like to read more of my writing, my author name is Taylin Clavelli. I can be found on Facebook and I have a website.


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